“We’ve got ourselves a tired little girl, here,” Scully said, setting Abigail on her feet to remove her coat before taking off his own. Abigail yawned dutifully.

“Best take a nap,” Evangeline told her daughter.

It was a measure of Abigail’s fatigue that she didn’t protest, but simply ambled over to the bed, got out of her shoes, and crawled under the layers of quilts and blankets. Hortense, forgiving whatever slight she’d undergone, immediately joined her, circling and finally settling down for a rest of her own.

Scully kicked off his boots and set them by the fire to dry, then went into the lean-to and came out in a few moments, carrying a small, beat-up box Evangeline had never seen before. From it he took a checkerboard, which he began setting up in the middle of the table.

Jacob drew up a chair, his expression eager. Amusements, even simple ones like a game of checkers, were no trifling matter in such far-flung places as this, after all, and it was clear that both men relished any chance to play the game.

Scully gestured grandly to the other chair. “Go ahead, Evangeline,” he said, to her pleased surprise. “I’ll take on the winner.”

Evangeline had played checkers with Charles on occasion, back in Pennsylvania, and during those times they were able to talk. Mostly, of course, Charles had reminisced about Clara, while Evangeline had come as close to sharing her dreams, hopes and fears as she ever did with him. She sat down, flattered by the invitation, and chose the black pieces for her side.

The game began, progressed, and ended in a resounding victory for Jacob, in all too short a time. Evangeline gave up her chair and stood behind Scully to watch the next match, catching herself just as she would have laid her hands on his shoulders in a wifely fashion.

She saw in Jacob’s eyes that he had noticed the gesture, but as before, there was no judgment there. Only a certain sorrow. Or had it been sympathy?

Evangeline went back to plucking the grouse, finished the chore, and cut them up for frying. Unlike chicken, these were spindly birds, with little meat on their bones, and it took a good many of them to make a decent meal.

“Come on back and try again,” Scully said to her, looking up from the checkerboard. “I’m beaten.”

“Plumb whupped,” Jacob agreed, with another ghost of a grin.

Evangeline hesitated only briefly, then washed her hands, wiped them dry on her flour-sack apron, and took Scully’s place at the table. Presently, Abigail woke up, wandered over dragging the quilt in which she’d swaddled herself, and asked to be taught to play the game. Jacob finally lost, and stood, so that Scully could replace him.

Scully sat down, lifting Abigail onto his lap, and patiently showed her how to set up the board, as well as when she could jump another player’s “men” and when she couldn’t, and then unleashed her on Evangeline. With typical aplomb, Abigail won her first game.